


Being Neighbors: Part 3

by mysticaljayne



Series: Being Neighbors [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:51:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticaljayne/pseuds/mysticaljayne
Summary: Thank you to everyone who is still reading and commenting! I know I'm not the most reliable of writers.





	1. Chapter 1

You come out of the peacefulness of darkness to bright light, yelling voices, and excruciating pain echoing throughout your body. You hear voices telling you to wake up, but it’s just too much. Everything is just too much.

 

Is this hell? Is this where people go after living the kind of life that you lived? What happened to the peaceful pleasure of darkness?

 

“Just hold on, Mrs. Hammer.” The low-pitched voice, male, tells you with what a part of your mind registers as soothing but it’s the words that have you react instinctively.

 

You jerk away from the careful touch, lashing out with limbs that move sluggishly. “No! Don’t. Not again. No.” You try to yell the pleas, to turn them into orders, but the voice that sounds like your own is nowhere near being assertive.

 

You are begging. You thought you wouldn’t have to beg again. That was part of the path, right? Help…help Not-Wilson. Help yourself. Help…

 

“You have to be still, ma’am.” The voice comes back with hands holding you down. “We have to stop the bleeding.” The man’s voice raises to drown out the other voices that keep fighting for dominance in the background. “Fetal distress. Where’s the ob-gyn? This baby is too early to be born.”

 

You hear the words…but the hands. Different memories overlap, and you keep struggling against the holds. You have to get away. You have to. Being tied down…No. No.

 

“What’s going on?” Another voice…one that you recognize; Not-Wilson, Peter, calls out as the first voice that you can recognize as ‘not threat’. “Is she going to be okay?”

 

“Blows to the stomach…”

 

“Broken rib…”

 

“Blood loss…”

 

“Come on, Peter.” Another voice, one that you heard a lifetime ago flirting with a woman who had more willpower than pretty much anyone in that room, comes through. “We have to give the doctors room…”

 

“But Stark…” Not-Wilson, Peter, sounds so young there. He really is a kid. He didn’t deserve to be put through what Hammer put him through. What…what you put him through by not acting sooner.

 

“You need to be looked at too, kid.” Stark tells him and you fight to stay in this world of bright lights and fading voices. You fight the peaceful pull of the darkness that had curled you in its careful hold. You have to know…

 

You yank again at the hands holding your feet together and fight down the panic causing your thoughts and words to jumble into a strange whirlwind of necessity and terror. “Peter. Not-Wilson. Kid…is he okay? Are we…Justin? Master?”

 

“Sh.” Another voice, this one you think is female based on how high the voice is, tries to lull you into some type of calm. “Don’t worry about that, Mrs. Hammer. Just relax, okay? Everything will be alright. Just relax.”

 

_‘Just relax, pet. This won’t hurt much…’_

_‘Stop fighting. If you just…ugh. Yeah. Like that.’_

You know the woman’s words were supposed to calm you, but all it did was echo with a lifetime of someone so much stronger than yourself telling not to fight as they did what they wanted to you. You yank an arm free and something crunches under your fist. The hand holding down your foot loosens enough for you to jerk it free and land into something soft. Pain slows down your reaction time and the needle jabbing into your arm has you flinch.

 

The sudden jerking reminds you of the wounds to your abdomen and you let out a cry. You try to curl in on the pain but more hands straighten you out. More hands hold you down. More hands move you like a doll. They pull at clothing that sticks your skin and pulls as they take it off. Scissors. You’d recognize that sound of sliding metal almost as easily as you can recognize Hammer’s voice change right before he lashes out.

 

“You have to calm down, Mrs. Hammer.” The woman talks and what she called you…No. Just no. You lash out as much as you can with all of the hands keeping you in position.

 

Your lips curl back in a snarl as straps are attached in place of their hands. “I’m nothing of his.” You bite out the words, twisting your arm enough to make you scream at how you are pulling to your body’s limit to get out.

 

To be free.

 

“Get out of here, Diane.” The male voice from earlier orders, his face vaguely coming into focus in front of you even with the darkness seeming to crowd in to snuff out the light. “Listen, we are trying to help you. We can’t do that with you fighting us, alright? Just…just let us help you.”

 

You try to see the sincerity on his face, but you can just barely make dark features as the darkness whirls even more to encase everything. You need to stay away. Sleep isn’t safe. No. Sleep isn’t safe. There are too many hands. Too many…

 

Just too many. You have to stay awake. You have to…


	2. Chapter 2

The smells are different this time around. There’s less of the metallic stench of blood and more of the bleach clean smell found in hospitals all over the world. You don’t want to come from the peace of darkness and back into the blinding pain of life. At least when you…

 

Hands.

 

Too many.

 

The memory blazes back into the forefront of your mind and you start yanking to try to free yourself. You feel tape on your arms and pain low in your abdomen. Alarms start blaring as you try to yank out the IV lines in your arm. The lights are too bright. The sounds are too loud. Too much…

 

Door suddenly opens and people wearing scrubs run in. Faces. Hands. Voices. Too many people. Too many threats. Too many….

 

“It’s alright, ma’am.” One of them speaks and your mind connects the face and voice to something from the past. You know them, or at least you’ve seen them before. “You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

 

You freeze up as someone reaches towards your arm. You unconsciously grip what you realize is a needle before they take a step back. “Master.” You say the word with a twist of hatred and fear. The people in the room exchange glances, but you focus on the open door and people standing just outside of it. “He…Not-Wilson. Experiment.” The words…why won’t they come together into something that at least another being besides yourself would understand?

 

The person in front of you nods. “It’s alright. Just take your time.” They reach out to pat your hand and you can’t stop the involuntary flinch. You close your eyes and mentally admonish yourself for letting them see your fear.

 

You shake your head, mentally putting up blocks that worked for you earlier. You just have to become the person that you need to be for a few more moments. “No.” This time your voice is steadier and you straighten up even as every piece of you screams to not move or curl inward. Taking in a breath hurts, but you have to breathe. You aren’t…you have to let them know so that Master won’t get Not-Wilson again. “Master, I mean, Mr. Hammer, he’s the one. Not Not-Wilson, uh, Peter. Peter was…He was an experiment. Okay?”

 

The person sadly smiles at you. “We know, Ma’am. Mr. Parker told us about Hammer’s plan…” Yelling voices outside of the room has them pause to turn around just after you see their smile disappear into a frown. You tense up, mentally cataloging what tools you have close enough at hand to use to fight back.

 

The voices raise and one that you know goes above the rest. “Listen here. I came here to talk to Mrs. Hammer and that’s what I’m going to do.” Ross. General Ross.

 

“You’re an idiot.” Another voice that your mind mentally digs through old files and brings up Tony Stark. What would…

 

“Excuse me?” General Ross rears back and you take a moment to decide which feeling you’d rather go with now. The loudness makes you want to curl in fear, but…but a part of you just wants to hysterically laugh at the man that thought that…that thought that…

 

Maybe it didn’t take much deciding because you curl your uninjured across your ribs to stop them from moving so much from the laughter. The person from before walks back to your side with a concerned expression and you shake your head even as the giggles start to fade just a bit into what amounts to sobs. “Stark is right.” The person keeps looking at you as if you might need enough CAT scan. Honestly? The many times that someone (read, mainly Hammer) has hit in you the head and/or face has probably left some permanent damage at this point. “Ross is an idiot.”

 

You can’t force anymore words out before they are leaning beside you. “Ma’am? You have to control your breathing.” You shake your head, not really caring that your breathing is getting shallower and more erratic. “Breath with me, alright? Breath in…Breath out…”

 

_“Breath with me. Come on, sugar.”_

 

You fall into the memory and let the arms from then mentally hold you now. It’s okay. It’s alright. Everything is just one step at a time.

 

You hadn’t even noticed the you had started to tremble until the shaking slows down to nearly stopping. You focus on the face in front of you and the memory of safety that you had to hold onto. Breathing gets easier, even if just as painful as before.

 

“I’ll tell them to come back another day.” The person pulls up and you argue between the what the smartest choice would be.

 

Eventually you decide on a choice that may not be the smartest, but the one most likely to get them to leave you alone in the foreseeable future. “No.”

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“No.” This time the word comes out stronger than you planned. You dial down the next words. “It’s fine. I can try to answer their questions. I’m up to it. I am.”


	3. Chapter 3

The doctor doesn’t look like they’re going to go for a moment until you pointedly look back at the door and make a move as though you were going to get out of bed to do yourself.

 

“Mrs. Hammer.” Ross is the first to speak, even though the room is feeling a bit claustrophobic with all of the people now crowding the place.

 

You flinch and hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t call me that. _Ever._ ” You listen for the machines they have you hooked up to as a reminder to calm your breathing. It’s better to get this over with and done.

 

“Ma’am.” Ross begins again and Stark snorts from where he stands just to the side of Peter Parker who is sitting a wheelchair with a frown. “I have…”

 

“James Buchanan Barnes, aka. The Winter Soldier, aka Bucky, aka whatever, didn’t hurt me. This time or last.” You interrupt with a frown and clench your hand at the pain caused by moving to much. Busted ribs are the worst. “Any other questions?”

 

Ross looks as if someone just slapped him. “No, ma’am, that wasn’t what I came to ask.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and you jerk away when for a moment it looked like he was reaching out. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

 

“I’m fine.” You grit out, consciously forcing yourself to stop shaking. Seriously. This is getting ridiculous. “Anything else, General?”

 

“Hydra.” His word has you completely shut down your tremors and lock the fear far away. You hear voices as if from coming from a tunnel.

 

The voices keep getting louder and louder. Stark yelling about people being idiots and Parker saying something about timing. Something crashes brings your mind out of the kaleidoscope and back into the hospital. You shouldn’t say anything. You shouldn’t let them know that maybe, just maybe, Ross may be onto something.

 

You push yourself further up with a wince. “What do you want to know?” You ask the question, but no one can hear you over their own voices. “I said! What do you want to know?” You repeat, louder than before and three sets of eyes look at you.

 

Stark is the one that breaks that standoff, because of course he would be. “You worked for Hydra? I mean, I thought Hammer was an incompetent…”

 

“Hammer is my Master.” You interrupt, not paying attention to your wording until you see the way Parker shakes his head with a grimace. “I am his Pet.” Stark’s nose curls up a bit at those words and even Ross looks confused. Though, considering how he couldn’t put two and two together to make four, you aren’t truly surprised. “Sometimes, not often, Master will loan out his Pet for others to play with it.” You explain, as though talking to small children.

 

You don’t flinch at the finger that touches your arm. Master hasn’t made a rule that no one else can touch you today. Sometimes Master does that. “Hey, crazy lady.” You turn unseeing eyes to the boy who is looking at you with more concern than you remember anyone doing so before. “You still in there?”

 

“What’s going on?” General Ross demands but you don’t look his way. A small voice inside of your head tells you that you aren’t back there, but the larger part stomps it down.

 

Parker glances over to where Ross’s voice came from. “I don’t know. Some kind of mind control thing, I guess.” He turns his head back, tapping again on your arm. “Hey. Remember me?”

 

You blink a few times, enjoying the sudden darkness between the hospital lights before closing them long enough to stay in the dark long enough for your mind to realign. You open them to Parker, not-Wilson, and pull away as if burned. “Sorry. Sorry. I forget. Forgot. I don’t know. What do you want to know?”

 

You wrap your arms around you. The pressure causes your ribs to hurt, but you lean into the pain. The pain is grounding. This is where you are. Here. You aren’t back there. You got out. Remember…you aren’t there. You got Peter Parker out. Master can’t hurt him here. Master can’t…

 

But Master can hurt you. Master will find you and bring you back. How could you forget that? How??? Master has friends everywhere. You can’t escape Master. Master owns you.

 

You look at the IVs and yank them out. It hurts but bruising will have to be fine. A little bit of bruising will be nothing compared to what Master will do to you once he comes to get you. He won’t forgive you this time. Especially since you took his…took his…

 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” General Ross yells the words and when he reaches to grab you, you roll away and lash out. Something crunches under your foot and the pain from your ribs and stomach nearly has you black out.

 

“No!” You grab the first thing you see and hold it out in front of you as you back away towards the wall. It’s hard to breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe? “He’ll find me here. I have to go. I can’t go back. No. No.” Everything blurs, and you blink away the tears.

 

The door slams open and people come in. More people. You can’t get through all of these people. They’ll try to keep you here. They always do that. Then…then Master will come. You can’t get away. It’s hopeless but you can’t go back. You can’t.

 

“Get them out of here.” A voice orders and people surround you just outside of the range that you have with the item in your hand. “Ma’am put down the pen, please. No one here is going to hurt you. You understand?”

 

You shake your head even as you look down at your hand. A pen? Seriously? That’s what you grabbed? You start laughing and crying at the same time. “You won’t, but he will. You’ll give me back to him. You always do. I can’t go back. I took his heir. I took his one thing that he had and Stark didn’t. Don’t you understand?”

 

The woman slowly moves forward to hold out her hand. “We won’t make you go with him. If he comes, we’ll keep him away. Now, we need to get you back in the bed. All this movement isn’t good for you.” You look between her hand and your own before passing her the pen.

 

Your legs fold up underneath you and arms grab you before you can reach the floor. “Does it matter?” You ask the question to no one and everyone. “Master always wins. No matter where you put me or I run to, he’ll always find me. He’ll always bring me back.”


	4. Chapter 4

You are still hysterically laughing when the woman leads you back to the bed. What else is there to do? Really? What else is there? You’ve ran away more than once and look where that led you to. Look! Right back into his arms to obey his every order.

 

You can’t even fight your own mind that still defends him after everything that he did. You still defend him. You did then, even when Bucky had taught you basic self-defense. You defended Hammer. Then…then as soon as he had you back under his thumb, you fell into the role you had been molded to fit. You are his Pet…

 

He’s your Master…

 

And…and the baby? Was it even still alive after everything? It was your fault if it died. All your fault that another life ended…but what kind of life could it have had under Hammer’s thumb? Would Justin had eventually turned his attentions to…

 

No, you can’t even finish the thought inside of your own mind, even if you know the answer to that one was almost definitely a yes. Hammer had you play your role when most kids were starting to get out of playing with dolls and cars. His anger had simmered for years before he decided that you needed to be punished.

 

The woman sits you on the bed and the pain from laughing has turned it mostly into cries. “Did I…Did I kill his heir?” You choose the words carefully. The new role you had was to be his carrier for the future. Did you fail at that as well as everything else?

 

Someone pats your hand as though to be reassuring. It really isn’t. Nothing is reassuring now. Hammer is going to come. If he comes, he’ll take you. If he takes you…

 

“The blows to your abdomen caused internal damage.” The woman eventually explains after footsteps tells you that everyone else has left the room. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the baby didn’t make it.”

 

 _Baby._ No, heir. You have to think of it like that. It’s not like you would have been able to keep it safe even if you had been able to run to freedom.

 

You nod, even as everything seems floaty and not completely real. “Good.” You answer as decisively as you can. “It’s in a safer place that I ever could have brought it to.”

 

She gives you a funny look before motioning someone closer. Well, you must have missed counted. You must be more out of it than you thought to not recognize the other person in the room. They replace the IV that you had yanked out just moments ago before anyone spoke again.

 

“We won’t make you go back to him.” She repeats again and you shake your head at her naivety. There’s no such thing as safe in the world. Didn’t she know that?

 

Justin is everywhere. Master controls everything. No matter where you go, he’ll bring you back. He’s spent too much on you to let you go. He’s told you that enough times over the years.

 

You take a quiet moment before giving voice to a fear that hadn’t even been in play before Hammer took you off your birth control. “How much damage did…” you just stop yourself from blaming Master. It’s not Master’s fault. “My internal…” You have at your midsection as though that could explain something.

 

The woman purses her lips as though mentally trying to decide the right words to say. “There will most likely be scar tissue. We won’t know the full extent until after you have healed. You may be able to carry another child in the future.”

 

She gets up and leaves. Something in your mind clicks into place that hadn’t done so before.

 

For years you tried to escape by running. You always ran off to find somewhere else to live. You thought that there was a safer and better place out there.

 

First you ran to your parents. Who did nothing but blame you… You tried to escape just to be dragged back by Master. Then later you ran into the streets and into a brainwashed assassin’s arms.

 

What are the chances that there’s a place out there where you can be safe from Hammer ever dragging you back? Really, what are the chances?

 

What are the chances that next time he won’t tie you down to make certain that you carry his heir to term? Or that he’ll stop just before…

 

Just before killing you.

 

Death.

 

The greatest escape has always been the easiest, hasn’t it? Maybe your death won’t stop Master from hurting others, but it should stop him from hurting you. Right?

 

Right?

 

But first though…first you have to let them know what Hydra did. You have to tell them about the machines and weapons that you know they have.

 

You have to give them enough information to…to do something. You don’t really remember the why, but just that it needs to be done.

 

Then you can go to safety.

 

Then you can rest.


	5. Chapter 5

No one bothers you for hours and while you consciously know that you should rest, you can’t bring yourself to do so. You made this mess, the least you can do is see it through.

 

Finally someone comes back in. You expected a doctor or a nurse.

 

You didn’t get them.

 

“You lost, Stark?” You ask the question with a bite and a clench of a hand. Your mind gives you different sides to Tony Stark and how you are supposed to respond. Instead of going with any of them, you force yourself to sit still.

 

He looks up from a quick perusal of you in the bed so you can see the tiredness in his eyes that wasn’t so dissimilar to what you saw in the mirror the last time you bothered to look. “Not who you were expecting?” A curtain seems to fall over his eyes so that all that’s left is the playboy he used to be.

 

Used to be. “Not really.” You answer, trying to sit further up on the bed. “If anyone I’d expect General Ross.”

 

“Idiot.” Stark mumbles to himself and you don’t bother hiding the small smile that reflexively came on your face. “Ross doesn’t know the difference between an arc reactor and a car battery.”

 

You roll your eyes and give up on getting any more comfortable. “He’s a politician.” You explain as though that should be answer enough to everyone. At the smirk from Stark, he understood. He probably had enough trouble with them over the years.

 

“He claims military.” Stark walks closer to stand at the foot of the bed. He glances at the machines that are still hooked up to you.

 

You snort and then wince at the pain that any sudden movement still has. “High-ranking military. Same difference.”

 

He looks at a point on the wall doesn’t move. “You said you worked for Hydra?”

 

“No.” You answer, and his head turns sharply at that. “I’m Master’s Pet. Master had contracts with a group that called themselves Hydra. Master loaned his Pet out at times.”

 

With each Master and Pet that comes out of your mouth you see him flinch as though someone had decided to hit him with a tazer. “Peter, he told us something of what Justin was up to. Well, told _me._ ” You nod, but don’t speak. What was there to say to that. “What other projects were you working on at his behest?”

 

You open your mouth to respond before suddenly shutting it. Your fingers twist in sheets and you fight to keep your breathing under control. You see the glance and know the heart machine is probably going haywire. “I’ll tell you.” You voice slightly shakes and you push the fear down. Now isn’t the time. “I’ll tell you about the projects. I’ll interpret my notes. But only under…you have to…”

 

One of his eyebrows quirks upward and he appears calm, except you recognize the panic that he’s trying to hide. “Yes?”

 

You force the shakes to stop. You force the fear to go away. You become the person that you were when you would be working on a project and Master would come in to play. Then force you to get back to work afterwards as if nothing had happened. “I can’t go back to him. I can’t… No. You have to promise me that I get to be free. That you won’t stop me.”

 

“Can’t promise that.” Stark answers, and you look straight at him and let yourself fall into your mind. You know how to play roles.

 

The smile you give him is one that you gave at a dozen conferences and interviews. “Then I won’t tell you how far he got at replicating Mr. Parker. I won’t tell you about the massive recognition program he had me work on. I won’t tell you about the various weapons, both biological and chemical, that he had me play with. I won’t tell you how they’ve simplified the mind control machine. And I definitely won’t tell you who he was selling each of these things to.”

 

Stark looked as if someone had punched him in the gut. “I can find the answer to all of that. We don’t need you.”

 

“And I’m not going to give you information about my Master if you are simply going to return me to him.” You wave a hand in the air. “By the way, everything is hypothetical. It’s based on the word of a crazy person that defended the Winter Soldier, even after he beat and raped her. At least according General Ross.”

 

“The General is an…”

 

“Idiot.” You finish his response with a smile that definitely doesn’t reach your eyes at this point. “I know that. You know that. But still…who told the story of The Hulk that everyone believed?” You lean back and close your eyes. “You’d be surprised at the people that used to come over to Master’s for a private meal.”

 

He frowns and something tells you that he’s just moments from punching something. It must be something about you that causes people to want to resort to violence. “What are you saying?”

 

“Politicians are easy to buy, Mr. Stark.” You tell him without opening your eyes. “The thing is…most of the time you don’t even have to buy them. Just give them a spiel that feeds into their ideologies. Same with most people. Why do you think so many are Hydra?”


	6. Chapter 6

You lay back and close your eyes, counting the minutes that swiftly turn into hours as you listen for footsteps and voices that you half dread. A few possibilities run through your mind as to who will be the next people punching through the door. You half expect it to be Ross by the time the door eventually opens and the clack of very expensive shoes goes until just about the foot of your bed.

 

“How many?” Stark’s voice is strained, which is something that had been low on the list of possibilities. He must not be going to the mandatory therapy sessions that were noted in his file.

 

You lazily open your eyes, keeping your emotions and surface thoughts carefully locked down to the point where you don’t even hear the echoes of the scared girl that you once were. “How many what, Mr. Stark? Stars? Grains of sand in the ocean? Spoken languages on Earth?”

 

“Hydra.” Stark says, his tone saying all you need to know about how much he really wanted to have this conversation. Which is to say…not at all. “How many Hydra members are there?”

 

“Which species?” You give the half-smile that you had perfected many years ago at Hammer’s side. “Only one is considered to be real. Though, since ancient Nordic gods have been proven to exist these past few years, who knows about the other one?”

 

“Listen…”

 

“No, Stark.” You interrupt, staring straight at him to further emphasize your point. “I gave you enough information for now. No way am I sharing my entire hand until I get my freedom. I helped your friend escape from my prison. That should count for something.”

 

“Peter wouldn’t have been…”

 

“Been in there without him trying to help me?” Your face twists until it reaches something that you hope is approximately innocent and yet condescending. “The thought has crossed my mind more than once, Mr. Stark.”

 

He stands straighter, the businessman in all his glory. “Then the both of you escaping was a joint effort and mutually benefiting to both parties.”

 

You raise your eyebrows and make sure that your smirk is large enough for him to be unable to determine it as anything other than what it is. “If you say so, Stark.”

 

“Hydra.”

 

“Not happening.” You dig your fingernails into your arm for the split moment when your mind tried to run back into the past to play around with another no fond memory.

 

“Then you can stay here until Hammer comes for you.” At Stark’s words, a shot of fear goes through you but you breathe through it.

 

You still have your back up plan if nothing else falls into place. “That I can. But are you really going to let someone that kidnapped the kid keep walking the streets? Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t trying to drag information out of him. You know how Justin is.”

 

The lights suddenly brighten as someone flicks the light switch by the door and the kid that you just mentioned walks, well, more like bounds, over to Stark with a puppy dog look of adoration on his face. “Hey, Stark! You tell crazy lady the plan yet?”

 

“No.”

 

“What plan?”

 

Peter looks between the two of you and comes closer, ignoring the hand that Stark reaches out to stop him, pats your leg. “The plan for us to go to the new Avengers headquarters until they catch Hammer. That dude is nuts. Makes sense you’d go crazy being with him for so long.”

 

“No.” You say the word, at the flash of triumph you see from Stark you know you didn’t completely hide the edge of fear there. “I’m not trading one prison for another. I’m not going to be your Pet.”

 

“The Avengers are heroes.” Parker explains, as if that is explanation enough. How in the world is this kid anywhere near this innocent after everything? Seriously?

 

Things are never that simple. The good guys are just people that happen to do good things. If things suited them, they would do harm.

 

 _Not always._ Your mind contradicts and you mentally tell it to hush and go back into the box you had it shoved into. Now is definitely not the time to be trusting people.

 

“Too bad so sad.” Stark answers, giving a shrug as if that would in any way counter the look of winning on his face. “Hospital already released you into my private medical staff’s care. State of the art.”

 

Your hands clench again before you breath out the rush of anger. You look at Parker’s excited face and the determination on Stark’s. Maybe the anger isn’t so much anger as a touch of fear. You know how to deal with Hammer when he holds all of the cards.

 

Stark? You have no clue.

 

“Come on, crazy lady.” Peter encourages, excitement having him bounce just a bit in place. “I know him. Stark is nice. He’s nothing like Hammer.”

 

You clench your jaw and fold inward inside of your mind. So much for anyone keeping you out of the hands of billionaires in the weapons business, even if this one only made weapons for himself and his ‘friends’ now.

 

People with the money always have the power, and everyone else just has to live with the consequences of whatever they decide to do with it.


	7. Chapter 7

You don’t respond to Parker’s questions and comments as the driver goes further out of the city streets and starts to pass larger and larger pieces of green. Stark answers the questions the best that he can but even the most oblivious person wouldn’t be able to miss the glances that they keep throwing your way. If you didn’t know better, you would even think Stark was feeling guilty.

 

But you do know better, and as such you keep your face turned towards the passing scenery that was hard to see through the darkened glass. At least death is still an option in your deck of cards, if you can find something to use.

 

You glance down at your clenched fingers, going through options that you had thought you didn’t have to think of. There’s always a choice, even when all the choices are crappy ones. You chose not to make a scene. You chose to keep quiet. This is your choice, even if it seems that it isn’t.

 

A sudden bump causes you to wince at the sudden jarring of your ribs. Hammer had done a number on you and it will take time to heal. There’s always a way to escape, you just have to figure it out. You can do this. You can completely do this.

 

Your eyes find the animated face of Parker to merely glance quickly away. You feel a prick of guilt at the random thought that this wouldn’t have happened if you had merely left the kid behind. There had been other options besides breaking him out and running. You could have ran first and just left a message for someone!

 

Okay, so that wouldn’t have worked. Before anyone could get together and actually believe the message, Hammer would have already moved the kid.

 

You chose the best option at the time, just as you are choosing to do the best option in the present. You calculate the risks and mentally poke at your emotions as though they were a balloon filled with water to see if it happened to be too full and ready to pop. Fear. Rage. Despair. Hope. Determination.

 

Those emotions weren’t too overwhelming, and the main part was that you can hear the different thoughts but none are truly taking control like they had with Hammer. Stark may be like the other billionaire in many ways, but there’s a main difference that you can work with.

 

You don’t know Stark’s buttons, but he doesn’t know yours.

 

You open your mouth for a moment just to quickly snap your jaw shut once more. Is this the right plan? You look at scenarios and try to come to likely conclusions with each choice that you make. Yes, out of everything this is the one that will most likely lead to an opening. At least if you can keep yourself from falling for their rhetoric. “Where are we going?”

 

The two males suddenly stop in their back and forth conversation to stare for a moment. “The new Avengers Headquarters. Remember, crazy lady?”

 

You nod and force a smile for the kid. “I remember, but where is that?” You direct the question to Stark, trying to not sound as confrontational as you feel.

 

He looks at you as if you are an equation that he just needs one more piece of information before he can solve it. “Somewhere safe.”

 

“Somewhere Safe, Nebraska?” You respond and try to get more comfortable in the seat.

 

Stark’s face wrinkles up a bit as though stopping himself from giving a response just as snarky back. “Been there lately?”

 

Fine, maybe he hadn’t been refraining so much as trying to make the comment less judgement filled. He failed, but you have to give the guy some points.

 

Your smile sharpens into something shark-like. “Once or twice. Kind of a boring place, but no bars to leaving. Your place similar?”

 

“It’s not a prison.” Stark answers, something in his tone leading you to think that there might be more to the story there than what his words are saying. Has he doubled a place as a prison before? “The new Avengers Headquarters is the safest place for anyone with a target on their back from Hydra.”

 

“Unless Hydra is part of the US government, right? Or the United Nations?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, taking in the world at a different angle that generally causes people to get the creeps. “Or one of your people? How about an ‘Avenger’ while we’re at it?”

 

“The Avengers are heroes.” Parker interrupts the staring contest. “Even when they make bad decisions, they are trying to do the right thing.”

 

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” You respond back without thinking through the words. You’ve heard the phrase enough times to have it ingrained. “Doing the right thing is hardly ever easy.” The words weren’t so much to Parker as to the older man sitting across from you.

 

“And helping Cap and the others escape was doing the right thing?” Stark sniped back, his body tense as it wasn’t just a few moments ago.

 

This wasn’t how you had planned this going…

 

You shrug, refusing to look away from his face. “And giving into the demands of people being ruled by fear is? You know as well as I do that people will agree to anything when they are afraid.”

 

He jerks back as if your words weren’t just vibrations created by vocal chords but as physical slaps. “I’m not Hammer.”

 

“He really isn’t, ma’am.”

 

“I won the science project that got Hammer’s attention when I was nine.” You tell him, his face not reacting to the information that you are pretty sure is common knowledge. “He started…” You flitter through the different words that could describe what happened that night so long ago. “He had me start earning my keep when I was ten.” Stark’s jaw clenches tight at the words that could mean a lot of things. “I didn’t see my parents until I was twelve and begged for them to let me come home.” You lean forward, an arm around your waist to maybe offset the pain just a bit. “I had no contact with anyone for two years that Hammer hadn’t carefully filtered through. Even after that, I was closely monitored for years. You really think you are that different?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still reading and commenting! I know I'm not the most reliable of writers.


	8. Chapter 8

The scenery starts to blur a bit after that, and the quiet discussions that had once been happening between Stark and kid have since lapsed into silence. You mentally go through lists the further out you go from the city streets that you at least had a chance of knowing. Here? In the middle of nowhere? Well, there’s nowhere to hide. You are a city gal at heart and while you may, theoretically, know some things about the wilderness, it hadn’t exactly been required learning from Justin.

 

Except when dealing with cloaking devices. You had to go out into different environments for that one, along with a few others whose designs you filter through and mentally discard into a corner in your mind.

 

“We’re here.” Stark eventually speaks and looks up from where he’d been playing on the phone in his lap. Parker had been staring out of the window with a look that you can only describe as excitement and awe.

 

The kid turns back with a huge smile on his face. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He tells the older man, not to subtly bouncing in his seat. “Is anyone else here?”

 

Your mind catches on that and you mentally put aside what you were thinking about and cataloging the looks that flitter across Mr. Stark’s face so quickly that you would have missed it if you hadn’t decided to pay attention. The man looks off into the distance, and you know that he’s no more looking at the trees than you are.

 

“Not as many as I wish there was.” Stark answers, and the sadness is suddenly replaced with a look very close to manic. He claps his hands before reaching for the door handle. “Now, who would like a tour from the great Tony Stark?”

 

The man all but leaps from the car with the kid scurrying out behind him. You sit for a moment, thinking through information that doesn’t quite add up in your mind. Stark may not be Hammer, but he is similar in a lot of ways. But…The only time…No, Hammer never had that broken expression before. Justin’s sadness always stemmed from him not getting his way one way or another, and generally only as a covering for some type of manipulation.

 

You slowly get out of the vehicle and take in the green that surrounds you. Grass. Trees. There are even some flowers when you glance around. The scenery is peaceful, as long as you don’t look too far out and at the fence line you can faintly make out. There are people keeping watch, but they keep to the shadows as though trying to be subtle.

 

You finish your quick look to land on how Parker bounces in excitement. The scared kid that Hammer had locked up and strapped down is nowhere to be seen as his words tumble out faster than his mouth can even form them. Stark looks as though he’s trying to answer the questions as fast as Peter asks them.

 

Eventually the great Tony Stark glances up and your eyes remain on his face. You know one of your masks has fallen away at the furrowing of his brow. It’s hard to hide the confusion as you filter through emotions and possibilities.

 

No.

 

You mentally slam shut any of the doubts you had started to feel and lock away any trace of the person that you ever could have been far from any prying eyes. Stark looks away from you and you mentally note the look of disappointment.

 

Disappointed that you didn’t fall for his ruse? Most likely.

 

This place is still a prison, no matter how pretty the outside is.

 

Doors open and people go out, seemingly not paying attention to the newcomers. A hand touches your arm and you rear back, fists up before you completely comprehend what was happening.

 

“Crazy lady?” Parker asks, his hands held up as though talking to some wild animal. Considering how your emotions are under the façade of calm? Yeah, that may be a good analogy for what you are. An injured, wild animal willing and ready to lash out at any hand that happens to get too close, friendly or otherwise.

 

Considering the world that we live in? Most hands aren’t friendly. Most hands are merely waiting until they have the upper hand so that they can eliminate or control you.

 

Your hands fall back down to your sides, and you force a smile that you know won’t reach your eyes. Professional. You can be professional. “I’m alright. What is it, Peter?”

 

The kid pats your arm and gives it a gentle push to where Stark is standing just inside some overly large open doors. “Mr. Stark said he was going to give us a tour before showing us our rooms. Cool, right?”

 

You nod and allow him to lead you to the building. Panic builds, but you push it down. You remind yourself that going in the building won’t make you even more of a prisoner than you already are. You are here by force, and the only way you have a chance of getting away is to learn more about the place they are keeping you at.

 

Hammer had a thing for chains for a while. You learned how to pick the locks eventually. Eventually. Any system can be beat, you just have to take the time to learn it and how to get around the protocols put into place.

 

Knowledge is power.

 

“If you say so, Parker.”

 

“Peter.”

 

You freeze for a moment before schooling your face into something back to the smile that you had before.  The kid is still smiling by the time he’s pulled you to Stark’s side.

 

“My name is Peter. Parker makes me think I’m in school or something.” Parker, uh, Peter tells you. Stark looks between you two, and the look on his face has you tense up. Calculating.

 

That look is calculating. That man is concluding something that you’d rather he didn’t. “Then I’ll call you Peter, Peter.” You tell the kid and he drops the hold he’d had on your arm.

 

“Peter is right.” Stark tells you, though his glance makes it seem as though he is speaking to a crowd and ready to bring them into whatever mad scheme he’d just come up with. “This place is really cool.” He waves a hand at a wall as though presenting a prized horse. “Welcome to the new Avengers Headquarters: the home of the world’s mightiest heroes.”


	9. Chapter 9

Stark goes from area to area, expounding on the virtues and the security of the place. For every new tidbit that came out of his mouth, the more dread you started to feel. Walls do two things: keep things out and in. From a defensive point, of which you are definitely going to let them think you are thinking (especially with the smile Peter keeps sending your way, and the way Stark’s face has been losing its pinched look), it has a lot of potential. A few holes, but generally those are only a problem with a large attacking force.

 

The main thing going for this place is its secrecy. No one knows of this place or its location. At least, that’s part of Stark’s spiel.

 

The public areas were for everyone, which included such things as a dining area, kitchen, and a training area that the three of you had glanced in at. Peter had nearly had an aneurism at the climbing area in the place. The kid had been bouncing on his feet as they went from place to place, taking the information in with an excitement that you couldn’t even think of faking.

 

Eventually they approached a set of doors that didn’t have the glass like the rest of the place. The smile on Stark’s face was gone and the pinched look was back. You look at the door, tensing up the longer you three stand in front of it. “Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, looking at the door with curiosity while you try to control the fear and anger at the existence of it.

 

“Biometric, camera, and a code?” You bite out the words, even though you would have expected something similar for a man such as Stark. “Reinforced steel, if I’m not mistaken? Or have you embedded some other type of metal which shouldn’t exist?”

 

Stark jerks back and a mask goes over the pinched look. If you were going to take a guess, you would say your words had hurt his feelings. Which you were not going to look too deeply into.

 

“Safe room.” The man’s arrogance was back as did a gentle rap on the door. “Well, more like safe elevator. The flooring is designed…” The man suddenly stops when his random looks at everywhere but at you had landed on Peter. “Kid…It’s a safe room, not a prison.”

 

You stop glaring at Stark long enough to take in Peter’s very white face. You look back at the door and you feel the blood drain from your face. No wonder the kid has suddenly freaked out. The door looks almost exactly like the ones that Hammer liked to have in the research areas. Those doors had been set to look on the inside.

 

Instinctively, you turn away from Stark so that you are standing right in front of Peter, looking at him straight in the face. “Hey, kid?”

 

You think you hear Stark mumbling something about age, but you ignore him to see Peter’s glazed look finally focus in. “Yeah, crazy lady?”

 

The smile on your face looks probably just as fragile as you feel inside. “I opened the doors there, remember?”

 

The distracted look was suddenly gone as quickly as it had appeared. Peter snorted out a laugh that no one there would believe to be humorous. “Yeah, I ‘member. Anyway, Stark’s a good guy. He wouldn’t lock us in.”

 

You turn back around and pretend you don’t see the guilty expression on Stark’s face when you bump shoulders with the kid. This time you take more than a quick perusal of the door. Then, instead of focusing on the door, you slide your eyes to look over the wall. Unless there was something hidden, the wall would be the easiest way in or out. Most of the time people forget to reinforce the walls, believing that the door would be the only entrance point.

 

“We don’t need badges, but I’m going to have to put you in the system.” Stark tells the both of you, and you watch as he opens the door. Or, more like the door opens for him.

 

You count the number of doors that you pass and estimate the distance between each. You take in the security measures that Stark claims is to keep you safe with the thought of beating the system. From the location that the three of you are in, to escape would be nearly impossible. Nearly, because there are always outliers.

 

For yourself? Unless something drastically occurred, you wouldn’t be able to leave without help.

 

Eventually Stark stops his tour to open yet another door, letting Peter in to look around the spacious sleeping area. There’s a desk in a corner, and Peter looks back with a raise brow and Stark looks just a bit sheepish. “Your Aunt,” Stark explains, “She, um, she wanted to make sure you got your homework.”

 

Peter pauses in glancing through a book before turning with wide eyes and a fearful expression. “What?” The kid’s voice breaks and swallows down the nervousness. “What does Aunt May think happened?”

 

“You never returned from your trip.” Stark looks around the room, and you take in the body language to file away for later. “She thinks that your internship was extended, and she won a vacation package. Pepper told me she’s been leaving some messages demanding that you call her back.” He nods and just now you take notice of the phone at the desk. “Happy’s been keeping an eye on her, and Pep’s been fielding calls when she can.”

 

You try to ignore the lines and how they are so similar from what feels like a lifetime ago to now. Peter is smiling as if what Stark had said was the greatest gift that anyone could do. You feel a pain in your chest at the similarities of this to what happened between you and Hammer years ago. The fear is still there, but the kid doesn’t look afraid at all.

 

Had you looked like that all those years ago? Had you trusted someone that you shouldn’t have? Or, better question, someone that your parents shouldn’t have trusted? They were the ones that put you under Hammer’s care, and then ignored you as long as they received their monthly check.

 

You tense when Stark puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The man pats the boy’s shoulder, he doesn’t rub it. To you, that’s an important distinction. A pat can be thought as fatherly. Maybe. Or maybe the clues are just different in this situation than it had been in yours. Or maybe there was nothing to it.

 

Your head hurts as you and Stark leave Peter behind in the room. Just a door down and Stark’s opening to another room. The colors are different, and instead of a desk there’s a work bench. You look at the bed and then back at Stark, hoping that the fear doesn’t show on your face.

 

Luckily for you, Stark is waving his hand around, telling you about the virtues of the bench and how there’s another place just down the way a bit and all you have to do is ask and…

 

“What do you want from me, Stark?” _Besides names_ you mentally add to your question when Stark stares at you in silence.

 

The look he gives is of pity. There’s no other way to interpret that scrunched up half look. He doesn’t speak but takes a step forward. You back away to keep the distance the same as before. “Nothing.”

 

“Nobody wants nothing.” You glance with your eyes, looking for weapons even if you know it would be futile to fight back. “I know you want the names, but you could have sent me with Ross. He may not be able to make me talk, but he has people that know a lot of persuasive techniques.”

 

His look is even more pinched there. “I’m not sending anyone with Ross. _Ever._ ” The conviction in his voice should convince you, but it just complicates things further.

 

You try to keep being nonchalant as you move backwards, away from him and the bed. “Then what are you getting from Peter?”

 

 _Disgust._ You read the look with confusion, and he looks like he’s going to step forward again but decides to shake his head instead. “Not _that_.” He says the word as if you would know what he’s talking about. Considering what he’s probably read? You probably do. “I would _never._ No. Just no. Look, you can lock anyone out of your room. See?” He taps on the wall and what once looked like brick turned into a screen. On the screen was a list of people’s names. “You can add people to acceptable list and to block.” He looks away from the screen to look at you with a hint of desperation. “I’m not going to do…to do what Hammer did to you or Peter to either of you. You are here to keep you safe from Hammer and Hydra. That’s all.”

 

You nod as if you believe him. You are still tense, though, when he leaves the room. You look at the screen and then around to where you suspect cameras would be hidden at. Stark designed the tech, so he would know ways around it if need be.

 

Though…though a part of you is filling with hope. Hope that this isn’t what your fears are leading you to believe.


	10. Chapter 10

Time blurs after the first few days. You cross paths with a man that is more machine than man standing in front of a television set. He had red skin. Red. Skin.

 

You feel that that is important, but all you did was look at him for a moment before backing away into the shadows. Arguably, the skin was more purple than red in the lights…and he hadn’t looked threatening…

 

You glance over your shoulder before shaking your head. Now isn’t the time. Now isn’t…

 

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jerk around, raising your hands up in a defensive maneuver even as you mentally ridicule yourself. What can you do against a human/machine that you are connecting to the news channel? The one with a stone in his head? Yeah, nothing. Nada.

 

“Miss?” The machine/robot ( _Vision_ , your brain tries to helpfully give you the information with a news clip of the Avengers talking and being introduced.) calls out, trying to look nonthreatening. Or at least as nonthreatening a super robot could be.

 

You slowly lower your hands and do that weird half-fake-smile thing that almost everyone does when feeling out of sorts. “Yes, s…Yes?” You stopped yourself just a moment before adding that ‘sir’ part when the idea churned your stomach.

 

“You are frightened.” Vision gives it as a statement and you feel the tremors start for a second before pushing them down. _Not the time._ “Why? You are safe here.”

 

“If you say so.” You respond, backing up yet another step. “I’ll just be going that way…” You point behind you and make as though to turn.

               

“What are you called?” Vision asks and the shock of the question more than anything causes you to pause. “I know you were born Emily Black.” You tense at the name and turn back to more fully look at him. No one has called you that in years.

 

You straighten up and move around pieces of your thoughts until only the most needed were close to the top to grab. “I haven’t been Emily Black for a very long time.”

 

Vision nods, as though that statement would make any sense. “What do you wish for us to call you? What is your call sign?”

 

You know your eyes must look like they are bugging out now, because there would be no other expression that you could possibly make. “Wait…what?”

 

“Call sign.” Vision repeats himself, not changing his expression or the location of his gaze. “Many heroes use them, though not all. Peter Parker uses Spiderman. Tony Stark uses Ironman.”

 

You don’t hold in the startled laugh that bursts out. “Hero? I’m not a hero.” You step back, holding up a hand so that Vision could maybe understand that you mean for him to stay put. “I’m just…” Your brain goes over the labels that you’ve had over the years.

 

Daughter.

 

Sister.

 

Emily.

 

Pet.

 

Ms. Black.

 

_Pet._

 

Mrs. Hammer.

 

**_Pet._ **

 

Crazy Lady.

 

Property.

 

_Sugar…_

You take a breath in and let the whirling thoughts fall back into their respective boxes. “I’m me.” You tell him, looking up into eyes that look more human than you would expect in an android. “I’m me.” You feel the tears start to sting your eyes and you are nodding your head to something. “Whatever that means.”

 

Arms wrap around you as your vision blurs thanks to the tears. Sobs that aren’t anywhere near feminine shake your body. “It’s alright.” Vision tells you and pull back the sob that was trying to escape and step back. His arms fall back to his sides and he looks way too human to not be.

 

“I’m fine.” You tell him, locking away the freaking out child that seems to keep freeing itself. “I don’t know what…” You cut off your own words and quickly wipe away the moisture on your face. Now is not the time. “I apologize. I do not have a call sign, sir.”

 

“What would you like for me to call you, then?” Vision asks, again more like a human than you would think. The programming must have been a sight to see, or maybe just magic can be used as an explanation.

 

You open your mouth to answer before suddenly shutting it. “I…I don’t know.” You tell him, being honest instead of picking one of the different aliases that you have used when trying to escape from Hammer.

 

Vision nods his head, looking more robotic this time than he had done so before. “Then feel free to tell me when you have decided.” He looks off to the side before looking back at you. “I apologize for my abruptness. I am needed elsewhere.” Vision takes off down another hallway and you watch as his cape flies in the wind even without there being wind for it to fly.

 

Another thing that you aren’t going to think about it.

 

You take a step to go back to the room Stark gave you, but paused as a thought crosses your mind. Mentally cursing your curious nature that Hammer never could beat out of you, you turn to follow the same hallway that Vision had just went down.

 

On one hand, you’ll get lost way before you reach wherever he was going.

 

On another? Well, knowledge is power. Just because you know something doesn’t mean that you have to use or speak of it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...my plans were to upload this yesterday along with another work. That didn't quite work out. I'm not the greatest fan of this chapter but eventually went "it works" when I couldn't figure out how to move forward. Here goes nothing. Hope you all enjoy the update.

The walls are all the same off-white color that you have spent more than enough time staring at. Every so often a painting will be hung on the wall that brings color to the hall. You mentally note the pictures but don’t spend time looking at them. If there is any chance of finding where Vision went off to, you have to keep moving.

 

Eventually you hear the sound of raised voices. One female. Five males. You…you know some of those voices.

 

Peter. Peter Parker. Not-Wilson. Spiderman.

 

Mr. Stark. Anthony Stark. Ironman. Tony.

 

Black Widow. Natalia. Natasha Romanoff.

 

Dr. Banner. Hulk.

 

Vision.

 

Unknown.

 

You place each of the voices as you are able to differentiate them from what sounded like noise. It takes moments for you split the conversations apart and to make sense of the utter chaos. Still, though, you don’t turn around the corner for them to see you.

 

If they had wanted you to be there, they would have called for you.

 

“Look, I don’t know what they know.” -Peter. Voice raised. Fear, but not of the people in the room but of an idea. His voice didn’t have the edge associated with talking with a potential attacker.

 

“They kept most of their information on paper.” -Stark. Condescending…No, worry. Worried tone. What could cause Stark to be worried?

 

“So the girl is the only one that knows anything?” – Unknown male. Similar accent to Stark, but not completely the same. Clipped words.

 

“The staff was already questioned.” -Black Widow. Voice deceptively relaxed. No one sounds that relaxed unless intentionally wanting everyone to think they are.

 

You move slightly and feel the hardness of the wall under your hand. The flashback is hard to ignore and still you see the faces behind your eyelids every time you blink. Now isn’t the time to go through every person that you crossed paths with back there.

 

If you let yourself sink into the past you still feel the hands holding you still.

 

“Yeah, and that wasn’t everyone.” Peter’s voice could barely be heard because of how soft he spoke. The kid was probably remembering something that Hammer or one of his people had done.

 

You try not to think about what could have happened to a kid that was strapped down to a table. You don’t think of what happened to you when Hammer decided to play one of his games. That hadn’t been pleasant.

 

“What do you mean?” Stark’s voice suddenly cuts to anger. Even if he can’t see you, you unconsciously flinch at that tone. You heard it often enough.

 

Wait…you’re flinching. You…

 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice, if anything, has gone even softer at that. “There were…There were a lot of people that would come and look at me in the beginning. They drew a lot of blood and wrote down notes with how I reacted to…to…”

 

You close your eyes as the words ricochet and drag out pieces of information before throwing them back into the darkness of your mind. You saw the notes that had been taken. You had looked at the bloodwork and tried to pick apart what had made it so unique to cause the differences even if that wasn’t something you knew a lot about.

 

You know when Hammer had sent most of the security guards away. You remember the smirks that they would send your way as though they were in on some type of secret. You heard them more than once joke about being able to watch porn while looking at security cameras…

 

Know, wrong time. That was before. That was years ago. Not this time. But…

 

“Reacted to what?” Dr. Banner, sounding as calm and professional as he did back when him and Natalia had shown up looking for Spiderman.

 

_“When did he last hit you?”_

 

He hadn’t been judging then. Or at least he hadn’t sounded like it. He had been sympathetic, but looked a bit green. Angry without having it directed at you.

 

You stand because you can’t hear anymore. You can’t…you don’t want to tell them what happened anymore than Peter probably does.

 

You wipe away the moisture that was just starting to form in your eyes and make a decision. It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe you are completely foolish.

 

Maybe this is just another cage that you are putting yourself into. You remember the others hiding out in your place on the run from these people and the police.

 

You remember how they blamed Bucky, even when he had done nothing wrong.

 

Maybe you can learn to trust them.

 

Banner had been kind.

 

Natalia had seemed to care.

 

Vision had been nothing like the machine you had thought he would be.

 

Peter had risked his life, and had been captured, to try to save you.

 

The unknown was still that…an unknown.

 

Mr. Stark? Well, he was still the jerk that you remember from the parties Justin had dragged you to. But…

_“Not that. I would never. No. Just no. Look, you can lock anyone out of your room. See? You can add people to acceptable list and to block. I’m not going to do…to do what Hammer did to you or Peter to either of you. You are here to keep you safe from Hammer and Hydra. That’s all.”_

 

Ms. Potts had been the one to look the other way, and she trusts Mr. Stark.

 

“Peter?” You call with the echo of ‘not-Wilson’ in your memories as you go around the corner. All eyes turn to you and you put on the smile you perfected on Hammer’s arm. “Oh, hello.” You tell them as though you hadn’t heard all their voices at least once. “Um, can I talk to you?” You point your thumb somewhere behind you.

 

The way the kid leaps from where he’d been sitting on the edge of a seat puts another point into this odd plan that you haven’t completely thought through.

 

“Yeah.” Peter calls, stumbling over his feet on his way to the door and away from the eyes that followed every move. “Sure thing, Crazy Lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! I finally liked what the story was giving me as a beginning. A bit shorter than I would have liked...but it does come across how I sort of envisioned it happening in my head. This version of the first chapter is a lot better than what I kept coming up with earlier...imagine a bad version of Tell-Tale Heart. A really bad version...Or a cheering team of monotonous beeps. There were a lot of beeps...


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